


Birds of a Feather

by lee_a_p



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Disordered Eating, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Raven!Neil, Slow Burn, i have no idea what im doing haha, this is gonna be a wild ride buckle up y'all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29896623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lee_a_p/pseuds/lee_a_p
Summary: In an effort to force Kevin back to the Nest, Riko leaves a battered Neil on the doorstep in Columbia. But Neil won't go along with Riko's plans, even if he doesn't trust the Foxes. He'll do anything to get Jean out of the Nest, and he might even find a team of his own in the meantime.
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 18
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I'm obsessed with Raven!Neil fics, and this idea's been stuck in my head for a while. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> cw for injuries, blood, and intoxication (cracker dust and alcohol)

Eden’s Twilight thrummed with heavy bass and writhing bodies. Andrew remained on the outskirts of the action, sipping a whiskey and savoring the way it scorched his throat. He caught glimpses of his brother and cousin on the dance floor, but only for a couple moments before they disappeared back into the crowd.

“We should get going soon,” Kevin remarked from Andrew’s left.

“So eager to abandon your drink. How unlike you,” he replied.

Kevin had been a mopey bastard since they’d been eliminated from championships the week before. He hadn’t even been playing, but the team’s failures reflected on his—poor—coaching skills. Andrew had barely seen him sober outside of the hours he spent on the court. 

The man in question sighed. “If we’re going to get to the stadium anytime before dinner tomorrow, we need to be going now.”

 _Of course_ , Andrew thought. 

“Go get the idiots,” he told Kevin flatly, not looking up from his drink.

Andrew saw him get up in his periphery, and he took to observing the crowd until Kevin returned with the rest of their merry band in tow. He ignored Nicky’s questions as he stood, leading them to the GS.

He slid into the driver’s seat, savoring the moments he got behind the wheel without the influence of his medication. He listened for the thudding of car doors before he peeled out of the parking lot, smirking slightly at his brother’s muttered swearing.

Columbia went by in a blur, the traffic sparse so late at night. He let the quiet murmur of Kevin and Aaron’s conversation wash over him as they drew closer to the house. He assumed they were talking about Exy since Kevin was physically incapable of carrying a conversation about anything else. 

Mere minutes later, Andrew pulled the car into the driveway, but before anyone could exit the car, he locked the doors.

“Andrew, what—” Nicky asked drunkenly.

“Shut up,” he said, his eyes on the mass blocking the house’s front door.

It was completely still, little more than a dark blot. But considering Riko’s recent string of “gifts” for Kevin, Andrew wasn’t taking any chances.

Since the Foxes’ season had ended, Riko had been trying to intimidate Kevin into returning to the Nest. Several dead foxes, vandalized buildings, and crazed fans later, and Kevin was still with the Foxes, if only because Andrew had promised to protect him.

But Kevin had announced he was returning as a striker in the fall, and they were expecting Riko’s retaliation.

“Stay in the car,” he warned before unlocking his door and stepping out. He ignored his family’s protests as he made his way to the front door.

His knife was a reassuring weight in his hand. It was cool in the February air but not so cold as to be uncomfortable. Andrew gripped it a little tighter as he approached what appeared to be a body. They were completely still, curled into a ball. Were it not for the shallow rise and fall of the person’s chest, he would’ve thought they were dead.

The streetlight illuminated the stranger in an array of reds and blues. His hair was a dark red, matted with blood that matched it in color. His skin was a sloppy painting, splattered in dark blue and purple. Every now and then, Andrew caught the green and yellow of an older, fading bruise.

But it wasn’t the boy’s injuries that caught Andrew’s eye. It was the number inked onto his cheekbone. 

It was the four to Kevin’s two, a dark number marking his place in the Perfect Court. But as far as Andrew knew, there were only three members: Riko, Kevin, and Jean Moreau. 

It was darker than Kevin’s, newer if Andrew had to guess. He wondered if Kevin knew this boy, or if the Raven had been tattooed so recently that not even Kevin had been aware of his existence.

He tested the theory by turning back to the car. He stared at Kevin, who unlocked his door and stepped out of the car. He staggered slightly but quickly regained his balance, unlike Nicky and Aaron, who were too drunk to walk in a straight line, much less investigate their surprise visitor.

Kevin froze once he had a clearer view of the boy. He wasn’t close enough to see the number yet, only the red of his hair. But the panic and recognition that flickered across the striker’s face answered Andrew’s unspoken question.

“Who is he?” he asked Kevin, who let out a shaky breath.

“Neil Josten.”

The Raven, who had stirred slightly at Andrew’s question, went still. Andrew watched him for a long moment, noting the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

He crouched by the boy’s face, knife in hand. “I know you’re awake, Four. I don’t like liars.”

Blue eyes opened, so light they were almost clear. “Fuck you.”

Andrew couldn’t help the grin that split his face. Even with his meds almost entirely out of his system, the cracker dust and alcohol broke his steely facade. 

Before he could reply to the Raven’s less than friendly greeting, the boy’s attention shifted to Kevin. He spat something in low French, and Kevin flinched before responding with something equally vitriolic.

“Don’t,” Andrew warned, bringing his knife closer to the Raven’s face. “Don’t speak to him.”

Josten froze, a well-practiced stillness falling over his body. Andrew only watched him in silence, and the stalemate dragged on for a few long moments before the Raven finally snarked, “Are you going to stab me or let me go? Because if we stay here any longer, I’m going to bleed to death on your front porch.”

“Call Wymack,” he ordered Kevin. “And tell him to bring Abby.”

Nicky and Aaron finally got out of the car, evidently tired of waiting for Andrew to come get them. He heard Nicky’s drunken chatter stop as he caught sight of the battered Raven on their doorstep.

“What the fuck?” he asked incredulously. “Who is that?”

Before Andrew could reply, the Raven snarled, “None of your business.” 

Josten tried to push himself off the ground, but his hand slipped in the slowly pooling blood, and he crashed back onto the wood with a low hiss. 

“Stop,” Andrew ordered. 

The redhead glanced back at him challengingly. “Or what?”

“Or you’ll injure yourself more,” a voice interjected.

Andrew cut a surprised look at his brother, who had remained silent thus far. Evidently, he wasn’t too drunk to be a condescending asshole. Aaron watched the Raven with a detached sort of curiosity. He was cataloguing Josten’s injuries, gaze catching on the dark spot where blood had soaked through the boy’s shirt.

He reached for the Raven, motioning for Kevin to do the same. But Josten flinched back hard enough that he clearly aggravated his injuries.

“I’m going to help you up. Yes or no?” Andrew asked, noting the tenseness in every line of the Raven’s body.

“No.” He replied coldly, watching Andrew like he fully expected the Fox to grab him anyways.

Andrew only watched him expectantly, his arms firmly at his sides. The Raven tried to leverage himself up once again, and when that failed, let out a shaky breath.

Kevin snapped something in French, and the Raven responded in kind, equal parts exhausted and hateful. But he sighed and held out a shaking hand, which Andrew used to pull him to his feet.

Josten distributed his weight between Andrew, and when he still staggered, Kevin came to his other side. The Raven shot his former teammate an acidic glare before he accepted the aid, his stance tight.

Nicky hurried to unlock the door, struggling to fit the key into the lock while the rest of them looked on in annoyance. Finally, the lock caught, and Andrew pushed past them to get the Raven inside. 

Andrew and Kevin maneuvered themselves inside, the Raven between them as blood dripped onto the floor. Each drop hitting the ground was a gunshot, only broken up by Josten’s harsh breathing. Andrew tried to ignore the blood slicking his hand where it supported the boy’s torso, and he devoted his attention to getting the Raven to Nicky’s room. 

He heard Aaron follow them into the bedroom, and Nicky was right on his heels. Andrew dumped the Raven onto the bed without care, eliciting swears from both the boy in question and Kevin, who was supporting the rest of his weight.

Josten hissed as he crawled into bed, eyes darting between the various members of Andrew’s group. He focused most on Kevin, though he had no shortage of wary looks for Andrew. 

“You need to put pressure on your stomach,” Aaron remarked coolly. 

Josten cut him a scornful look. “I’m not going to bleed out.”

“If you don’t put pressure on that wound, you could,” Andrew’s twin countered.

The Raven scoffed. “Given it’s been bleeding on and off all the way from West Virginia, I doubt it will suddenly become life-threatening.”

Nicky looked between Kevin and Andrew. “Is anyone going to explain? Why is there a Raven in our house?”

Kevin and Josten stared at each other for a long moment before the Raven finally replied, “I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can walk without passing out.”

Kevin argued with him in a string of angry French, and the two bickered for a couple minutes. Josten finally looked away, fuming, before Kevin announced, “He’ll be staying for the next week. I want Abby to look him over and make sure he heals properly.”

Nicky took that in stride, probably too drunk to care. Aaron looked more annoyed, but he didn’t bother arguing before stumbling out of the room they’d commandeered. Andrew assumed he was going to bed but didn’t bother following. He was more concerned with keeping watch over their unexpected visitor.

Josten looked like shit, beat to hell and like he would pass out at any moment, but Andrew didn’t trust him for a second. The Raven shot Andrew a long look, but he was clearly struggling to stay awake. Whether that was from sheer exhaustion or from blood loss, Andrew didn’t know.

Kevin’s phone rang, likely a call from Wymack, and he stepped out of the room to take it. Andrew stayed to watch the Raven, who was losing his fight to stay awake. 

By the time Kevin re-entered a few minutes later, Josten was out. And in the hour between the call and Wymack’s car pulling into the driveway, the Raven didn’t stir. Andrew would’ve spent that time interrogating Kevin about their surprise visitor, but he didn’t want to risk waking the Raven or driving Kevin further to drink.

His efforts were for naught when Wymack loudly slammed his car door, waking a panicked Josten. Kevin went to get the door before their coach could knock and wake up the rest of the house. Andrew heard Wymack’s angry muttering and Abby’s concerned questions, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the disoriented Raven.

He’d lost whatever lucidity he’d had earlier, whether from blood loss or some other complication of his injuries, Andrew didn’t know. But the redhead was whitefaced, his eyes glued to the door. When Wymack’s silhouette filled the door frame, Andrew understood why.

The Raven flinched back, fingers clutching the covers as if he could shield himself from the older man. Wymack froze, taking in Josten’s injuries and the tattoo marring his cheekbone.

“Another one?” he asked Andrew. “I didn’t realize we were becoming a shelter for wayward Ravens.”

The boy in question opened and closed his mouth, as if trying to find the words to reply but failing. Kevin responded instead.

“He needs medical attention,” he said on the Raven’s behalf, glancing at Abby and her first aid kit.

“No kidding,” their coach responded, taking in Josten’s bruised face.

Abby pushed her way into the room, already unpacking her medical kit. The Raven clearly noticed her, but his attention didn’t waver from Wymack, who he had been watching cautiously since he arrived.

“Boys,” the nurse said, her voice unusually hard, “wait outside.”

“Is it safe to leave you alone with him?” Wymack asked, though the question was directed more at Kevin than Abby.

Kevin nodded. “He’s more of a risk to himself than anyone else.”

“Fuck you,” the Raven hissed, the first words he’d spoken in hours.

His former teammate shrugged. “I’m not wrong.”

Wymack took Kevin at his word, cutting Abby a long look and saying, “If you need anything, just holler.”

Kevin followed their coach out of the room, but Andrew didn’t move. Abby glanced at Andrew in censure, but he only stared back balefully.

She sighed and returned her attention to the injured Raven. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” she asked.

When the boy didn’t respond, Andrew interjected, “Somewhere on his stomach. It was bleeding earlier.”

Josten glared at him, but Andrew ignored the Raven’s icy gaze. Abby looked to the boy in question, and he nodded.

“I’ll need you to lift up your shirt so I can get a look at it,” she told the Raven, reaching for his torso.

He flinched away and snapped, “I can deal with it myself. Give me some needle and thread, and I’ll stitch it.”

“Absolutely not,” Abby countered. “I’m not risking your wound getting infected or healing improperly. I’d ordinarily advise that you go to the hospital, but given your situation, I know that’s off the table. But I’m not letting you stitch yourself up.”

“Then you’re not treating me,” the Raven said harshly. “I’m not taking off my shirt.”

His eyes darted to Andrew when he said that last part, and Abby didn’t miss the look. Her eyes were calculating as she said, “Andrew, leave.”

“No,” he replied flatly.

She turned to face him, gracing him with a rare glare. “I won’t say it again. Go see Wymack and Kevin.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at the Raven, a warning that the boy took in stride. After a long moment, he straightened and made for the door. He didn’t miss Abby’s quiet murmur to the Raven as he went, nor did he ignore the less kind reply.

He exited the room, shutting the door behind him. The tang of blood hadn’t yet permeated the living room, and Andrew momentarily savored the smell of air freshener before turning a curious look on Wymack and Kevin.

The latter had passed out on the couch, dead to the world until at least morning. Their coach, on the other hand, was wide awake. He watched Andrew with a raised brow, which the goalie didn’t dignify with a reaction.

“Dare I ask how we have another Raven on our hands?” the coach said dryly. 

Andrew raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. “What makes you think this was my fault? Maybe my doppelgänger did it.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Minyard,” Wymack replied. “How did you end up with a Raven who looks like he’s been through a meat grinder?”

“He showed up on our doorstep,” Andrew said, lowering himself onto the couch. “A gift from Riko, I presume. Maybe we’ll send Four’s body back in response.”

Coach rolled his eyes. “We’re not sending him back to the Nest. And we’re definitely not killing him after Abby goes through the effort of putting him back together.”

Andrew shrugged. “I’m washing my hands of this. You and your merry band of fools can deal with the Raven. But if he poses a threat to any of mine, he’ll find a knife in his throat.”

Wymack didn’t respond, but he watched Andrew for a long moment. The goalie ignored the look, settling into the couch for the night. The cracker dust and alcohol were wearing off, making it harder to stay awake through his withdrawal.

He awoke a couple hours later to Abby filling Wymack in on the Raven’s condition. He’d recover within a few weeks, but the nurse was vehemently opposed to sending him back to Edgar Allen. Andrew heard Wymack agree, and the two made plans to bring the boy back to Palmetto while he healed.

The Raven was a threat, then. One that Andrew would have to handle before he did any damage.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil meets the rest of the Foxes and makes some decisions about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I've been deciding between creating a buffer and just posting when I feel like it. Given that I have no self control, I've picked the latter.
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter: injuries, referenced past non-con, implied disordered eating.

Neil watched David Wymack putter around the kitchen, preparing a late breakfast while his guest waited on the couch. The Foxes’ coach had wanted him to take the bed, but Neil staunchly refused. He wanted a clear path to the door at all times, even if it meant sleeping on a less comfortable surface.

Wymack had barely spoken to Neil since they’d driven back from Columbia. The Raven had slept for most of the car ride, as had Abby. And upon their arrival in Palmetto, Neil had immediately passed out.

Not that he slept well. Every time the man moved around in his apartment, Neil startled awake, waiting for the next beating. After three times, Neil just stayed up. 

Wymack had woken not long after, made himself a cup of coffee, and started cooking. Now Neil watched apprehensively as the coach set a plate in front of him. It was light fare, just some toast and scrambled eggs, but the sight of it made his stomach turn.

“I’m not hungry,” he told Wymack, unable to make eye contact with the man.

The coach sighed. “If you want to heal anytime soon, you need to eat something.”

Neil suspected Wymack wouldn’t let the subject drop, so he took a small bite of his toast. That seemed to mollify the man, who dropped into a nearby armchair and turned on the TV.

“Exy okay with you?” he asked.

Neil nodded. “I think the Penn game should be on soon.”

Wymack hummed something like agreement before flipping to a sports channel. The two of them settled in to watch as Penn annihilated Belmonte, and Neil picked at the toast to keep Wymack’s attention off of him.

He left the eggs untouched, not trusting himself to keep such oily food down. So when he finished the toast, he stood to put the plate away. At least, he tried to.

But the moment he straightened, Neil almost dropped the plate. His stitches pulled dangerously, and he’d forgotten the persistent aching of his thighs. With a low hiss, he sat back down, clutching his middle with his free hand.

“Give me that,” Wymack demanded gruffly. 

Neil flinched, then held out the plate. The coach watched him with something like understanding, but he didn’t comment as he took the dish.

They spent most of the morning watching the next round of playoffs, though Neil spent at least half of that time watching Wymack. Most of that was his instinctive wariness of men his father’s age, but part of that was out of curiosity.

He wondered if the coach was bitter. His team had made spring championships for the first time this year, but they’d been knocked out only last week. He knew Kevin was likely furious about his new team’s failure, and the Minyard twins probably couldn’t care less, but the Foxes’ coach was a mystery to him.

He watched each game impassively, only humming when there was a particularly good play or shaking his head when the refs made a questionable call. Sometime around three, someone knocked at the front door.

Neil stood to get it, but Wymack shot him a censuring look and stood. It turned out to be Abby, who had come to see the rest of Neil’s wounds. She wore the same pitying look she’d had since meeting him last night, and it made Neil’s skin crawl.

“I’ll give you two some space,” Wymack said before disappearing into his office. Neil watched the door for a moment after it shut.

Abby sat next to Neil and unpacked her kit. He unbuttoned the flannel he’d been given before leaving Columbia, wincing at the stretch of his stitches. He gingerly peeled the bandage off of the wound, revealing a long gash across his stomach.

Abby prodded at his stitches for a moment before turning her attention to his many bruises. She’d largely ignored them last night in favor of his more severe cut, but now she eyed them with horror and disapproval.

Worse, though, was the way her eyes widened when she caught sight of the scar on his shoulder from where a bullet had missed his vest. Last night, he’d been too bruised and bloodied for her to notice the ravaged landscape of his torso. And Abby had been too preoccupied with his stab wound to note his many scars. But Neil had showered off the blood between the first and second game of the afternoon, and the light of day revealed the horrors carved into his skin.

“What—” Abby breathed.

“Don’t,” Neil interrupted. “Don’t ask. Just leave it.”

“Someone shot you!” she argued.

He leveled her with a hard stare. “Do you need to treat any of my other wounds? If not, I’m putting my shirt back on.”

When she didn’t comment further, Neil set his battered hands to the task of buttoning his shirt. It took longer than he would’ve liked, but hiding his scars was a relief. 

After a long moment, Abby said, “I’m leaving you some painkillers. Take them with food, no more than three times a day. And don’t exercise. I don’t want to see you near the court until those stitches have come out.”

“I can play,” Neil retorted. “I’ve practiced with worse.”

Abby looked pointedly at where his scars were hidden by the shirt. “I can imagine. But I want you to heal properly, and that means taking the time to rest and recover.”

Neil shifted uncomfortably but nodded. Not that he would listen to the nurse, but if agreeing would get her to leave faster, he’d happily do so. Abby gave him a dubious look, rightfully doubting him, but she didn’t argue.

She started to gather her supplies, but Neil interrupted her quiet organizing. “There is something I need to ask, though.”

The nurse tried and failed to hide her surprise. “Of course!”

Neil stared at his hand, where he had bitten his nail to the quick. “I need some blood tests.”

“For what?” Abby asked, frowning. “I can get some screenings for nutritional deficiencies, but I imagine the Ravens were pretty meticulous about your diet.”

“No, I–” he took a bracing breath. “I need an STI test.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “Okay. I’ll have you stop by my office tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Neil replied quietly.

“And if you need to talk to someone—”

“I don’t,” he interrupted, and Abby didn’t bring it up again.

They sat in silence for another couple of minutes before Abby stood, calling out to Wymack that she was leaving. He came out of his office to chat with her before she left, and Abby called out a goodbye that Neil didn’t bother responding to.

Wymack set to preparing dinner, and the two of them spent the evening in near silence, broken up only by the soft murmur of the news, which the coach had put on while they ate. When Wymack retreated, dirty dishes still in the sink, Neil stared after him.

He wouldn’t sleep any easier that night, regardless of the coach’s kindness thus far. It would only take one wrong move for Wymack to turn on Neil. And the Raven wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking otherwise, even if the coach had been unthreatening thus far.

Wymack was no longer so unthreatening.

“Do I have to?” he asked, staring at the coach. The prospect of meeting the Foxes was as unappealing as it was idiotic.

The man in question rolled his eyes. “Unless you want them showing up here. I assumed you wouldn’t, so the court it is.”

“Why do I have to meet them?” Neil pressed. “I’ll be gone in a few days anyways.”

“I’m going to ignore that second statement,” Wymack said warningly, and Neil instinctively backed up a little. The coach immediately froze, but the damage was done. Realizing this, Wymack continued, probably hoping a change in topic would cut the sudden tension. “But essentially, Nicky couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and now all my Foxes are asking who the runaway Raven is.”

“I’m not a runaway,” Neil countered, probably the most blatant lie he’d ever told. But in this case, it was technically true. 

When Kevin had announced that he was signing as a striker for the Foxes next year, Riko had lost his mind. Neil blacked out soon after, but he remembered the bastard cutting up his stomach and letting the other Ravens beat the shit out of him.

He’d been taken to South Carolina sometime in between the blow that had knocked him unconscious and his arrival in Columbia. Neil knew he’d have to go back to the Nest if he wanted to survive, but that daunting prospect wasn’t what drew him back.

It was the thought of his teammate, his partner, who was being tortured in Neil’s stead. He couldn’t run away and leave Jean to face Riko’s wrath alone. If he was going to leave the Nest, it would be with Jean or not at all. Neil wasn’t willing to accept any alternative.

His mother would’ve beat him if she knew. But she was ash and bones on a California beach, and his year in the Nest had changed him. For better or for worse, that meant he wasn’t going to leave behind the only person who had defended him for those long months underground.

“So?” Wymack asked, and Neil blinked in surprise.

“Sorry, what?” 

The coach didn’t miss a beat, only repeated his earlier question. “We’re leaving in ten. That okay with you?”

“Sure,” Neil muttered. If he had to meet the rest of Wymack’s awful team, there was no point in delaying. 

Half an hour later, he found himself in front of the Foxhole Court. It was a riot of orange and white so bright Neil almost looked away. Wymack didn’t wait for the Raven as he strode inside, and Neil hurried to follow.

He trailed Wymack past the entrance and into what looked to be a lounge. Where the Nest’s common area had been dark and foreboding, the Foxhole Court’s was the team’s way of marking their territory. Every photo stuck to the far wall, every item of clothing strewn across the furniture, and every sports bag on the floor was proof of their existence. Every part of the stadium was a demand to be seen in a world determined to ignore them.

The Foxes themselves were equally loud in their demeanors. His eyes first caught on Danielle Wilds, offensive dealer and team captain. She looked Neil up and down, taking in his limp and the brand on his cheekbone. Her stance wasn’t overtly hostile, nor was it friendly.

She was the only Fox in her practice uniform, the orange bright against her dark skin. When she extended a hand to shake, Neil took it. Her grip was firm, but she smiled.

“I’m Dan,” she said. “You must be Neil.”

He nodded and withdrew his hand, suppressing the urge to wipe it on his sweatpants. The other Foxes took a cue from their captain and introduced themselves.

“I’m Matt,” said the tall man seated next to Dan. He pointed to the older guys on a nearby couch. “That’s Seth, Dwayne, and Damien.”

The rest of the team went through introductions, and Matt filled in for the ones too lazy or hostile to pipe up.

He didn’t bother introducing Kevin and his lot, probably because Neil had already met them. Though to be fair, Neil didn’t actually need Matt’s help. The Ravens were forced to study every team in the league, and the Foxes had become an object of fascination and scorn after Kevin’s transfer.

Neil stood uncomfortably, unsure where to sit. Renee Walker had an open seat next to her, and she smiled invitingly at him, but Neil only stared at her for a long moment. Her rainbow hair and kind demeanor couldn’t hide how she carried herself. He knew better than to place himself next to a person who could inflict grievous harm on him. He decided to stand instead.

“Do you talk?” a tall blond snapped. Allison Reynolds, Neil remembered. Defensive dealer and former heiress.

Neil spared her a hard look. “Is there something you needed me to say?”

“Maybe explain why you showed up on the Monsters’ doorstep looking like a PSA for domestic abuse?” she said hotly, raising a brow.

He mimicked her expression before saying, “No, I don’t think I will.”

Kevin cut in before Allison or the other Foxes could argue. “He’s a warning from Riko. Neil is supposed to take me back to the Nest.”

“Good riddance,” Reggie muttered.

Andrew shot him a warning look but didn’t comment. The other Foxes stared at Neil in horror.

“Stop looking at me like I shot your dog,” he said. “I’m not taking Kevin anywhere.”

The man in question watched him for a long moment. “You’re not going to run, are you?”

“You know I can’t,” Neil replied tiredly.

Kevin considered him for a moment before saying in French, “Riko will kill you if you go back.”

“So I should leave Jean behind? Unlike you, I’m not a sniveling coward,” he spat back, ignoring the team’s attention.

Andrew stood, drawing Neil’s attention. “If you’re going to finally do some talking, do it in a language we all understand. It’s no fun otherwise.”

He turned to the blond man. “I was just telling Kevin that I’ll be out of your hair as soon as Abby clears me to leave.”

“You’re going back to the Ravens after they did that to you?” Matt asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Neil responded, and he didn’t elaborate further. 

Wymack seemed to take a cue from his stony silence and shot him a look that said  _ we’ll talk about this later _ . But he let Neil’s statement slide and turned back to his team.

“Practice is optional for the graduating seniors,” he said, shooting a look to some of the older guys, “but I want to see the rest of you dressed and on the court in five minutes.”

Neil waited as the various Foxes made their way into the locker room. The graduating seniors didn’t follow, though they watched Neil with a mix of curiosity and scorn before exiting the stadium. He wondered if they’d come just to see him, though given their friendliness with Seth Gordon, he imagined his presence wasn’t the entire reason for their attendance at the morning meeting.

Wymack called out a goodbye to his seniors before coming up to stand by Neil. “You want to watch some practice, kid?”

“Sure,” Neil replied. He didn’t have anything better to do.

He followed the coach into the court, and they stood in silence as Dan led her team through warmups. Wymack spoke up when Dan started the Foxes on laps.

“You don’t have to go back to the Nest,” he said, his gaze still on his team. “I can find you another team. USC, Penn, even Palmetto if you want. Point is, you don’t have to be a Raven.”

“I  _ am _ a Raven,” Neil replied.

The coach sighed. “Even after Riko did that to you?”   
“Even then,” he said flatly. The brief silence that followed was punctuated by Exy balls hitting the court walls as Dan began accuracy drills.

Wymack looked at him for the first time since he’d spoken. “Okay. But if you change your mind, or if you leave the Nest again at some point, I want you to know you have options.”

Neil hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond to that. In the year he’d spent in the Nest, and in the long years on the run before that, he had never been faced with such an offer. Help with no strings attached, like it was nothing. Not that he trusted Wymack or his offer, but even the illusion of kindness was more than he’d ever had.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured.

Wymack just looked resigned. It was the bone-deep exhaustion of a man watching a car crash in slow motion. He was too far away to stop it, but close enough to see the gory aftermath of the wreck.

The coach left to lead his team through drills a few moments later, a task he took to with gusto. Neil shuddered as he yelled out instructions for the defensive line. He stayed as long as he could, desperately ignoring the way his skin felt too tight at the coach’s yelling. It made Neil want to crawl out of his body. But it was Wymack’s shouting at Andrew that drove Neil away from the court.

Not that he blamed the coach. Andrew spent his time in goal grinning at the ball as it sailed by, unwilling to lift a finger to block it. But understanding Wymack’s anger didn’t prevent Neil’s skin from crawling each time he raised his voice. It was all Neil could do to keep his gait even as he fled to the safety of the lounge, Wymack’s voice blending with his father’s as it echoed in his ears.

Once in the lounge, Neil could finally breathe. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends as he waited for his heart to stop pounding. When he was able to think clearly, Neil realized that this was the first time he’d been alone in almost a day.

He spent a moment running through the events of the morning. He traced the Foxes’ path to the locker room, listening carefully for anyone inside. When he was sure it was empty, Neil eased open the door, cringing at the slight squeak of the hinges.

Finding Kevin’s locker was painfully easy. A ‘2’ was proudly emblazoned on the front, and he hadn’t even properly closed it. That made it easy for Neil to grab Kevin’s bag and dig out his phone. He immediately returned Kevin’s locker to how he found it then exited the locker room, already scrolling through the phone’s contacts.

He found ‘3’ and pressed the call button, knuckles clenched painfully around the phone as he listened to it ring. To Neil’s great relief, the ringtone was replaced by a heavily accented voice.

“Hello?” Jean asked quietly. “Kevin?”

“It’s Neil,” he corrected in French. 

Jean inhaled sharply, the way he did when Riko gave up on waterboarding him. It was the first breath of air after an eternity spent drowning. “You’re okay?”

“As good as I can be,” he responded softly. “I’ll be back soon. Kevin’s not letting me leave until my stitches come out.”

“No!” the backliner exclaimed. “You can’t.”

Neil frowned. “I’m not going to leave you there. And we both know I can’t outrun the Moriyamas for a second time.”

“You have to,” Jean retorted. “One of us has to make it.”

“I told you,” he said harshly. “I’m not leaving you in the Nest.”

His friend paused, but Neil could hear the way his breath caught. “You promised me that when the time came, you would run. I can’t beat Riko here, and neither can you. But you can beat him by running. Please.”

Neil sat heavily on one of the couches. “I’ll get you out. I promise.”

“I know,” Jean said, and Neil could hear the smile on his lips. He could also hear the lie. He knew Jean didn’t believe him, but Neil believed enough for the both of them.

He sighed. “I have to go if I don’t want Kevin to know I stole his phone.”

“Go easy on him, will you?” Jean asked. 

He scoffed. “No promises.”

Jean huffed a laugh but didn’t argue the point further. “Get a new phone and call me soon. I don’t want you stealing his every time we need to talk.”

“I’ll get on that,” Neil agreed, smiling slightly. “Stay safe.”

“I always do,” he replied. It was a baldfaced lie, but Neil let it go unchallenged as Jean hung up. He just lowered the phone from his ear, staring at the  _ Call Ended _ screen on Kevin’s phone.

“So you’re a liar and a thief,” someone announced from behind Neil. 

He spun around and came face to face with Andrew. Neil could distantly hear Exy balls thudding against the court walls, so he knew practice hadn’t ended. But the goalie had clearly abandoned his post and managed to catch Neil redhanded.

“And you’re clearly incapable of minding your own business,” Neil spat back, unable to help himself. 

Andrew gestured to the phone in Neil’s hand. “Pretty sure that whatever you were doing on Kevin’s phone is his business. And, by extension, it’s my business. So unless you want me to tell him that he has a pest problem, tell me what you were doing.”

Neil weighed his options. Kevin probably wouldn’t be too upset by Neil using his phone to call Jean, but he didn’t want to explain how their conversation went. He knew Kevin would panic if Neil said he wasn’t returning to the Nest, despite his earlier disbelief. Once he had to consider the reality of Riko’s wrath, he would balk. He always did.

“Fine,” Neil snarled. “I was calling Jean—my partner at the Nest. I know better than most how Riko will take out his anger the longer Kevin goes without returning.”

Andrew hummed in vague agreement, only adding to his unsettling cheer. “Let me guess, you’re running. Not that I’m surprised. It’s in your nature, Rabbit.”

He scowled. “I’m leaving Palmetto. Where I go from there—to the Nest or otherwise—is none of your business.”

“Bzzzzt!” he said, mimicking the buzzers used on game shows. “Wrong. I imagine Riko won’t be pleased if you scamper off. We both know who he’s going to take that out on.”

Andrew’s meaning was twofold. Kevin would suffer if Neil ran, but so would Jean. Andrew had immediately picked up on his fears regarding his partner, and he didn’t hesitate in weaponizing them.

“So you want me to go back to the Nest?” Neil asked.

He tapped at his chin in mock consideration. “I’m not sure yet. But I will be after you come to Columbia.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. 

“It’ll have to be once you’ve healed,” Andrew soldiered on as if Neil hadn’t spoken. “Otherwise Abby will throw a fit.”

“I’m not going,” Neil said harshly. “So it doesn’t matter either way.”

The goalie shrugged. “In that case, I’ll just tell Kevin that you’re not going back to the Nest. We can see how he reacts to that little bombshell.”

Neil once again weighed his options. He could endure Kevin’s panic over his leaving, which would erode his already tenuous resolve to respect Jean’s wishes, or he could deal with Andrew and his family for a night. And after Columbia, he would hopefully be left alone, and he could disappear in peace.

“Fine,” he spat. “But if you don’t want Kevin to find out anyways, let me put this back.”

Andrew stepped out of his way with a dramatic flourish that Neil ignored, but he felt the man’s grin at his back on his walk to the locker room.

He managed to deposit the phone back in Kevin’s locker without interruption, but before he could disappear back into the lounge, the courtside door flew open. 

Neil flinched, locking eyes with Matt. Thankfully, the backliner was unsuspicious, and he smiled widely at Neil. That didn’t prevent his stomach from churning. He couldn’t help but see Reacher’s knife-sharp grin instead of Matt’s. Especially when he was trapped in the locker room with him.

“Checking out the stadium?” he asked genially. “If you want, I can give you a tour when practice lets out.”

Neil shook his head, perhaps too emphatically if the disappointment on Matt’s face was any indication. “I just wanted to see if it was as orange here as everywhere else.”

The backliner recovered quickly, though his smile was a little less enthusiastic as he replied, “It sure is. I’m pretty sure I dream in this color now.”

Neil could relate. Despite the brightness of Palmetto, he still dreamt in red and black. He didn’t think any amount of time away from the Nest would change that.

“I just need to use the restroom, but I’ll see you after practice, yeah?” Matt said when Neil didn’t respond to his earlier comment. 

He nodded. “Sure, see you then.”

Neil didn’t hesitate in returning to the court. He noted Andrew’s return to goal at the same time he met Wymack’s eyes.

The coach tilted his head in silent question, and when that went unanswered, he asked, “You okay, kid?”

Neil let his eyes wander over the Foxhole Court and its garish walls. He smelled the familiar odor of rubber and sweat that permeated every Exy court. And he thought of Riko, who was anxiously awaiting a return that wouldn’t happen.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on Neil's eating in this fic: I'm not writing it as an eating disorder, but rather as disordered eating that is an unhealthy coping mechanism for his PTSD and anxiety. This is largely based off of my personal experience, but if anyone notices something wrong with this portrayal or has something to add, feel free! 
> 
> His unhealthy relationship with food will be a pretty constant part of this fic, though. So if you find that triggering, this may not be the work for you. Take care of yourselves :)


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil goes to Columbia. It's not a good time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: vomiting, drug use, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual kissing, dissociation, disordered eating, nongraphic references to past rape

Neil stared down at the clothes Nicky had dropped off. He didn’t bother looking in the mirror as he pulled them on. The ripped shirt and skinny jeans weren’t particularly revealing, but they clung to him like a second skin. He picked at the gray undershirt he’d also been given, wishing it wasn’t so tight.

His stitches had come out on Wednesday, though the skin around his healing wound was still tender. Every step he took made the shirt rub uncomfortably across it, but after a moment, Neil was able to ignore it.

He was less able to ignore Wymack’s concerned look.

“You don’t have to go, kid,” the coach said, not for the first time.

“I know,” Neil lied. “But I could use some fresh air.”

Wymack shot him a disbelieving look. “Just be careful, alright? And if you need anything, call me. You have my number.”

Neil nodded. Wymack’s number was written on a slip of paper that he’d stored in his pocket. Not that he had any means of calling the coach, but he supposed he could use a payphone or steal someone’s cell if the situation called for it.

A knock sounded at the door, and Neil went to get it. He opened it to reveal a grinning Andrew who was clad in black from head to toe. 

“Let’s get going, birdie. We’re already late,” he announced.

“Am I a raven or a rabbit? It seems like you can’t stick to one.”

Wymack interjected before Andrew could respond with his usual manic wit. “He better come back in one piece, Minyard. If this is a repeat of Matt, I will gladly trash Kevin’s contract.”

“Not mine, coach?” he said mockingly. “I knew you wanted me here!”

“I know you’d celebrate if I got rid of yours,” Wymack grumbled. “I’d rather not give you the satisfaction.”

Andrew’s only response was to shoot Neil a significant look and walk back down the hall. The Raven sighed and turned to Wymack. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he followed Andrew down the hall. The blond didn’t speak to him as they rode the elevator downstairs, but that silence didn’t last. The moment the rest of Andrew’s group came into view, Nicky whistled.

“You clean up well,” he said. “Not that I’m surprised, but it’s easier to see now that your bruises are starting to fade.”

Neil ignored that comment, though it didn’t prevent his skin from crawling. Instead, he focused on the car. He’d seen it two weeks ago in Columbia, and it had been at the stadium during practice, but he had yet to see the GS up close.

Kevin was already in the passenger seat, and Nicky slid into the driver’s side when Neil didn’t respond to his comment. Neil slid into the open seat in the middle, cringing at the proximity of the Minyard twins.

Andrew had placed himself as far from Neil as physically possible, essentially pressed up against the door, but Aaron was less careful in his placement. The feeling of his leg pressed against Neil’s made him feel ill, and that feeling didn’t ease as Nicky pulled onto the road.

Nicky and Andrew chatted for the first half of the drive, a meandering conversation that Neil tuned out in favor of staring out the window. He memorized their route in an effort to familiarize himself with the area. He didn’t want to run until he had found a way to get Jean away from the Nest, but having an idea of his surroundings wouldn’t hurt.

Towards the end of the drive, Nicky swerved to the side of the highway in a move that had Neil looking for nearby cop cars. Thankfully, no one was around to ticket Nicky for his recklessness, and he made it to the side of the road in time for Andrew to get sick.

Neil tried to ignore the man’s retching, feeling his own stomach turn at the sound of vomit hitting the road. He wanted to laugh at Kevin’s look of offended disgust, though. 

He turned that attitude on Andrew as soon as they were back on the road. “Just take your medication.”

“Fuck you,” Andrew spat. 

Kevin didn’t bother arguing further, and the rest of their car ride passed in silence. It was a relief to Neil, who had the beginnings of a headache pounding at his temples. By the time they finally parked, it was a full-blown migraine.

They’d stopped at a diner, the sort Neil had found in every small city he’d stayed in. It had large glass windows, a cheap neon sign, and an exterior covered in peeling paint. The cousins didn’t wait for him to stare at the diner as they filed inside, bypassing the hostess to sit in one of the furthest booths.

The battered vinyl seats and checkered floors were eerily familiar to Neil, and it lent the entire night a sense of surrealness. Then again, Neil had been feeling out of his depth since arriving in Palmetto, a sensation made worse by his changed sleep schedule. He could never get enough hours of rest to sleep through the night, but he didn’t dare take a nap during the day. His exhaustion had started to weigh on him, making it all the more difficult to separate this diner from the ones he’d stopped at on the run. He half expected to see his mother in the seat across from him, but he was instead met with Kevin’s scowling face.

The man’s frown deepened when Neil passed on dinner. He had yet to comment on Neil’s eating habits, but he knew it was a matter of time. He could already feel Kevin’s silent censure.

Meanwhile, Andrew was ripping open baggies of powder while his brother looked on in annoyance. “Could you be any more conspicuous?” Aaron snarked.

“I don’t know,” Andrew replied gleefully, some of his earlier cheer returning as the drugs hit his system. “Want to see?”

Neil tuned out the cousins’ bickering until the food arrived. But Nicky’s comment when it did made his blood run cold. Not because of what he said, but because of the language he said it in.

“What’s his problem?” he asked Andrew in German, subtly nodding at Neil, who wouldn’t have noticed the movement if he hadn’t glanced over. 

Andrew didn’t respond, but Aaron cut in with, “Maybe he just doesn’t want shitty diner food.”

“Everyone likes diner food!” Nicky said indignantly, which set off a debate over the quality of their meals.

Neil did his best to appear like he had no idea what they were saying and ignored the curious glance Kevin sent him. He had only ever spoken French and rudimentary Japanese in the Nest, but the other man could probably guess he’d collected more languages in his years on the run.

He cut his gaze to Andrew, whose initial mania was wearing off to reveal a colder demeanor. He’d stopped fidgeting, and he picked at his ice cream methodically as his family bickered. In the harsh fluorescence of the diner, Neil could see the bruise-like rings under Andrew’s eyes. It made him wonder how much coming off of his medicine cost him. It made him wonder if it was worth it.

The dinner went more quickly than Neil expected, likely because the rest of them were eager to start drinking. He couldn’t speak for the cousins, but he knew Kevin would probably down an ungodly amount of vodka before the night was up. Unless he had suddenly gotten sober in the months since leaving the Nest, something Neil doubted given his anticipatory look as they walked back to the car, he was probably counting down the minutes to the club.

Neil watched the lights of Columbia streak by as the car kicked into gear, but it was a shorter trip than he expected. It was still a Friday night, so there was some traffic, but the club was much closer to Sweetie’s than Neil had thought.

He heard the music before he saw it, a low thrumming that set his nerves on edge. When Eden’s Twilight came into view, Neil felt his hackles rise further. A packed line snaked around the outside of the building, the clubgoers packed shoulder to shoulder. He could only imagine how crowded the inside was.

His only source of relief was that his outfit matched everyone else’s there. Neil hadn’t worn Raven colors since leaving the Nest, sticking to washed out blues and grays when Wymack had taken him to the nearest mall. And though he detested wearing an all-black ensemble again, it would help him blend into the crowd.

Neil was well practiced at ignoring his discomfort for the sake of disappearing.

Thankfully, when they got out of the car, Andrew led them past the line. Aaron chatted with the bouncer for a moment, and they were let in without a fuss. Neil ignored the dirty looks from people in line and followed the cousins inside, avoiding drunk clubgoers where he could.

That caution didn’t protect him from the people who bumped into him, or even the daring few who looked him up and down with chillingly familiar lust. Neil tried to keep him breathing even, but it was a lost cause.

His heart was pounding in his ears, louder than the deafening music. He squinted to see Andrew’s back through flashing lights. The man’s hair was illuminated in red one moment, only for it to turn purple as he stepped into the path of another LED.

It only added to Neil’s disorientation. It reminded him of the Raven party after championships last year. Neil had been beat to shit and drugged by something Riko had given him, so the leering faces of the Ravens had become something sinister, almost inhuman. The entire party had been warped by the red and black of the Nest, just as the music and lights distorted reality in Eden’s Twilight.

Andrew led them to an open table, but before Neil could sit, the man raised a brow at him. He turned his back in an unspoken order to follow, and Neil hesitantly complied. He’d gladly avoid Kevin, who watched him shrewdly. Thankfully, his former teammate would soon be too intoxicated to interrogate him.

Despite his small stature, Andrew managed to clear a path to the bar, where a tall bartender immediately spotted them and grinned. 

“Fresh meat?” the man asked.

“What else?” Andrew responded in the same tone of voice. “Drinks?”

The bartender nodded, then turned to Neil. “I’m Roland. Used to work with this menace,” he said, shooting a look at Andrew. “What’ll you have?”

“Coke,” Neil responded. Ordinarily, he’d stick to water, but soda had been banned in the Nest, and he wanted to savor this small act of rebellion. Plus, he wanted some caffeine since he was still on Raven hours, and that was making him tired already.

“Sure thing,” Roland said, then glanced at Andrew. “The usual?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Throw in a few extra in case Neil changes his mind. If not, I’m sure Kevin will be happy to take his.”

Neil watched the crowd while the two chatted for a moment longer. The sea of people on the dance floor seemed to sway in time with the movement. Neil didn’t know if it was his exhaustion or the hypnotic scene that made him zone out, but it seemed like only a second passed before Andrew was taking a shot-laden tray from Roland.

Nicky cheered when Andrew arrived with the drinks, and even Kevin smiled slightly. Aaron looked impassive as always, but he quickly downed two shots and held out a hand. Neil stared at it in confusion until Nicky threw a baggie into his cousin’s outstretched palm.

“You want in?” Nicky asked. At Neil’s disgusted look, he elaborated. “It isn’t addictive. Just a little bit of fun.”

He frowned. “I don’t do drugs.”

“Cracker dust hardly counts,” Nicky wheedled. “Even Kevin takes it.”

“Thankfully,” Neil said acidly, “I am more intelligent than Kevin. Though I think the average kindergartener probably is, so that doesn’t say much.”

Kevin glared at him before returning his attention to getting wasted. Andrew hummed in what sounded like amusement. “A runaway and a comedian? Who would’ve thought?”

Neil ignored the comment and grabbed his glass of coke. He downed a fair amount of the drink before noting the uncomfortable sweetness of it. But it had been years since he’d had soda—even on the run he’d preferred coffee if he needed caffeine—so he chalked it up to his changed sense of taste.

He passed on a proffered shot, taking another drink of his coke. But the syrupy taste stayed, something he would’ve ignored if not for the way Andrew was watching him.

Neil set down his soda and gave the blond a furious look. “You thought I wouldn’t notice you drugged my drink?”

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t think whether you’ve noticed matters at this point.”

He was right. He’d drank more than half of the soda, probably enough for the drugs to wreak havoc on his system. Neil started to feel dizzy, but he suspected that was his panic, not the high. 

“So, when are you leaving for the Nest?” Andrew asked, and Neil wasn’t so disoriented that he didn’t recognize the question as a test.

He cut a sour look at the goalie. “I’m not. You didn’t need to drug me to ask that.”

Andrew shrugged. “What’s your issue with Kevin?”

“He’s a fucking coward,” Neil slurred. The drugs were starting to kick in, and it was sooner than he’d expected.

“Nicky,” the blond said, ignoring Neil’s answer. “Take him out to the floor. I’ll be there in a few.”

Andrew’s cousin didn’t hesitate in grabbing Neil’s arm and tugging him out of his seat. Neil tried to pull away, but the man’s grip was too strong. His stomach churned as he was pulled into the crowd, and his nausea worsened with every brush of a body against his.

Each flash of the lights brought him back to the Nest. To hands on him, drugged disorientation, and leering faces. He supposed Andrew was not so dissimilar from Riko after all. Unsurprising, since Kevin was apparently incapable of surviving without someone to push him around.

Nicky disappeared behind other dancers, and Neil lost track of time in the sea of writhing bodies. His world narrowed to his next breath, to the blurring edges of his vision.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he felt a hand grab his waist. At first, he thought it was Nicky, but when he turned, the man was unfamiliar. Neil tried to pull out of his grasp, but he almost lost his balance. When the man began pulling him to the edge of the dance floor, Neil couldn’t do anything but stumble along. He was momentarily relieved to be out of the crush of bodies, but that feeling quickly died when the man pushed him back into the wall.

Neil was back in the Nest. In the locker room, Riko watching on in amusement as his backliners took their fill of him. When the man shoved his tongue in Neil’s mouth, he couldn’t breathe. He felt himself go limp the way he’d learned to in Edgar Allen. It hurt less that way, and fighting never did him any good.

The stranger didn’t do anything more than kiss Neil, but the Raven had a difficult time keeping his past and present separate, His head pounded in time with the music, and the pain reminded him of the way Johnson had slammed his head into the wall of the locker room.

When the man pulled away and patted Neil on the cheek in some kind of thanks, he saw Johnson instead. As the man disappeared back into the crowd, Neil’s legs gave out from under him. He slid to the floor, limp as a rag doll. 

He struggled to feel anything. Between the drugs and the unwanted kiss, his fear had bled into numbness. He sat in a stupor, watching the dance floor without really seeing.

When a hand rested on his shoulder some time later, he flinched. It snapped him to momentary attention, long enough for him to recognize Nicky, who had been saying his name. The man was shiny with sweat, but his usual cheer had given way to concern.

Neil only watched him for a long moment before retreating back into himself. He didn’t want to talk to the chatty man, didn’t want to answer any more of Andrew’s questions. He just wanted to crawl out of his body, which everyone seemed to think they owned. He wanted to disappear.

Andrew appeared at Nicky’s side. Had it not been for the armbands, Neil would have thought it was Aaron. Apparently his medication had worn off enough to take the edge off of his mania. The man was deathly still, staring down at where Neil had collapsed on the floor. 

Ordinarily, Neil would be bothered by having to look up at him, but he was beyond caring. He would’ve looked away were it not for the dangerous glint in Andrew’s eyes. 

“What happened?” the man asked lowly.

Neil didn’t respond for a long moment, just stared at the goalkeeper. “Do you care?” he finally replied.

Andrew acted as if Neil hadn’t spoken, only repeating, “What. Happened.”

At the man’s threatening tone, he pulled himself to his feet, staring daggers at Andrew. “You drugged me and threw me into a crowd of horny people. What do you think happened, asshole?”

His anger was able to cut through some of the numbness, and he used that momentary clarity to turn his back on Andrew and his cousin. He ignored Kevin’s concerned look as he bypassed the table, making his way to the club’s exit. Nicky trailed after him, calling out questions that he ignored. 

He was still staggering, but Neil felt better the moment he stepped outside. He took a bracing breath before starting down the street, eyes peeled for a payphone. He wanted to let Wymack know he was going back early. Hitchhiking while high wasn’t optimal, but he’d give himself a couple hours to sober up before hopping into anyone’s cars. That would make it easier to get a ride as well, since by then it would be around dawn.

He was halfway down the street when a voice at his back stopped him.

“Don’t,” Andrew said from behind him. Neil paused, but he didn’t turn around until he heard, “Who was it?”

He met the man’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

Andrew nodded, and Neil would have kept walking were it not for the look in his eyes. Not pity, but something closer to consideration. Understanding, perhaps.

“I’m taking those idiots,” he said, pointing to his family, who was waiting by the door of the club, “back to the house. I can drive you back to Palmetto after.”

“I’d rather not.”

Andrew raised a brow. “How are you planning on getting back then?”

He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” he replied. “But you might want to sober up first.”

Neil caught the water bottle Andrew tossed at him, scoffing. “You expect me to drink anything you give me? I’m not dumb enough to fall for the same trick twice.”

“What reason would I have to drug you again?” Andrew replied. “And anyways, it’s sealed.”

Neil inspected the bottle. It was, in fact, untampered with. Nonetheless, he replied, “You didn’t have a reason to drug me the first time, but that clearly didn’t stop you.”

“My reason was to see if you were a threat to Kevin. I’m pretty sure you’re not, so I have no reason to drug you.”

“I’ll clarify this for the last time,” Neil snarled. “I hate Kevin, but I hate Riko more. And keeping Kevin here hurts Riko, so I’m probably as invested as you in keeping him from going back to the Nest.”

A car went by, the headlights momentarily turning Andrew’s hair white. “Somehow I’m unsurprised that you’re devoted to something as petty as vengeance.”

“Fuck you,” he said hotly. There were many days when that desire to hurt Riko was the only thing keeping Neil going. It simultaneously reassured him because it meant he had the drive to keep living, and it frightened him in its similarity to his father’s violent promises.

“Regardless of your foolishness, I believe your reasoning. So you have my word that this,” Andrew gestured vaguely at Neil, which he assumed meant the drugging, “won’t happen again.”

Neil watched him carefully, looking for the lie. In his years on the run, and after his time in the Nest, his eye for falsehoods was sharp. But he found himself believing Andrew, despite the events of the night.

For all that he was the madman, Neil had yet to see Andrew act without reason. His every interaction with the man had been with the singular goal of protecting Kevin, and with that having apparently been fulfilled, Andrew had no reason to harass Neil any further.

He could hitchhike back, but he was risking traveling with strangers at the crack of dawn. With Andrew, he at least had some sense of how to deal with the man, even if that meant he had to bail later on. 

_ Better the devil I know than the devil I don’t, _ Neil supposed.

Andrew seemed to know the moment he decided because he started towards where he’d parked the car. Neil watched his retreating figure for a moment, wondering if he’d made the right decision. 

After a moment, he followed, leaving Eden’s Twilight and the chaos of the night behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so to explain some of my choices here: 
> 
> I decided not to have Nicky be the one to kiss Neil because it's always really bothered me that he's the only explicitly POC character in aftg and this scene (and lots of his dialogue) plays into some really harmful tropes about gay men of color. I will still be keeping him coming on too strong at times, but I decided to leave out his more problematic aspects (not because characters can't be problematic, but because the problems with this character feed into stereotypes that actively harm queer men of color). However, I had someone still kiss Neil without his consent because it's important to drive the plot forward here and is relevant for some of the revelations about his time in the Nest.
> 
> Second note is shorter, but I lent a feeling of general disorientation to this chapter bc at this point Neil is pretty sleep deprived and is low on food. In my experience, that made me really dissociative, and I thought that worked well with the way this chapter played out.
> 
> Thanks for reading! And if anyone wants to beta, feel free to lmk on my tumblr (lee-a-p)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to teach me how to use tumblr at lee-a-p


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